But Wilt Thou Woo This Wild Cat?
by Carleen
Summary: Andring Copper-Winter and Elahana Natima meet by chance on the road to Whiterun. They each have a good reason to use each other as cover while they travel. And just maybe they won't kill each other before they make Whiterun. They also both carry a secret that could mean the death of many people if it were discovered. Rated T for violence and scenes of battle.
1. But Wilt Thou Woo this Wild Cat? 1

TITLE: But Wilt Thou Woo This Wild Cat?

CHAPTER: 1

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"But Wilt Thou Woo This Wild Cat?" ―William Shakespeare, _A Midsummer Night's Dream_

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A Khajiit clings to life as a pale winter sun begins its descent behind the snowcapped mountains of Skyrim. She's soaked to the skin and the tips of her once golden fur are stiff with ice. Every step is agony with ice burrs tangled in the fur of her elegant feet and toes. She is alone and dying in this frozen wasteland with no one to note her passing. She's a long way from the safety of a caravan or her own people. Her parents will never know what happened to their daughter, or understand why she ran away.

Three days ago, a bandit stole her food and horse. He'd come upon her while she'd been asleep. Sleeping the exhausted sleep of someone who knows they are truly lost, he'd managed to tie her down before she could defend herself. The only thing keeping him from raping her was, as he so eloquently shouted in her face, he was an Imperial and she was nothing but a mangy halfbreed. He'd hit her though, just for good measure. The blow had knocked her into the stream, split her lip and chipped one of her canines. Then he rode away on her horse with everything she owned.

Two hours later, with the morning sun casting a blue haze over the land, she'd finally managed to untie herself. He didn't find the amulet she kept next to her skin. For that she was grateful. She gripped that amulet in her slender hand and kept moving.

The days and nights since that morning were tinged with terror and cold. On the second night a pack of wolves caught the scent of her bleeding wrists. She barely managed to escape them by climbing up on a rocky outcropping.

Today, she's barely crawling, when the vibration of galloping horses filtered up from the dirt under her cheek. Her feet and hands automatically flex to dig her nails into the dirt to move deeper into the bushes. She doesn't have enough strength left to climb any further than into the tundra scrub on the side of the road.

Move! Hide!

A scree of rocks and Snowberry bushes camouflage her. They pulled their horses to a stop directly across from her and she bit down on her hand to keep from crying out. What if they discovered her?

One of the men commented to his companion that he would stay on this road and make camp when it was too dark to see clearly. The dark breten, wrapped in a turban and robes, wished him well and agreed to meet him in Markarth in a week. She watched the two men shake hands. A dog began to sniff the bushes and move toward her meager protection. This was it.

"Ralph! Get over here!"

While she listened to the sound of the horses moving off, she told herself she could make it to that man's camp. The sun was almost down now. How far could he get. A mile? She could walk another mile. She could do it and she could only pray to her gods that he was a good man. It didn't matter if he were or not, because she would not survive another night out in the open. She cursed her inability to survive outside the walls of her Father's palace. She was better at sipping sugar tea and visiting with other noble children than riding a horse, or keeping herself alive in this frozen wasteland.

Her exhaustion-numbed mind begins to wander to thoughts of home. It's a small comfort and so she doesn't fight it. What harm will it do now. Dreams of warm sand and good food give her the strength to push herself to her feet. Her feet? She can't feel them anymore. Each step on the snowy stone road threatened to tumble her into the icy jagged-edged dirt and permafrost. With each step she imagined her bare feet sinking into the warm sands of Elsweyr. Just another few feet. Just one more step.

The sun is down now. But a Khajiit can see in the dark and she scans the road for signs of a campfire. But the air is empty of the scent of a horse or wood smoke and she almost weeps with despair. She realizes if she sits down, she will not get up again. So she wipes the moisture and dirt from her face, picks up the hem of her sodden dress and trudges through a haze of fat snowflakes.

In her homeland, the Spring sun sets the world glowing. The mica and quartz particles in the sand cause it to sparkle in the sun. Her people call it sugar sand. In the distance, her mother waves to her from the garden gate. Just one more step and her mother will take her in her soft warm arms, take her inside and feed her supper of her favorite fish stew. Later, after her mother listened to her say her prayers, she will help her into her large comfortable bed, pull the embroidered quilt to her chin and kiss her goodnight. Tomorrow she and her brother will go to town. Spring is her favorite time of year. The market stalls are brimming with fresh, delicious food. She and her brother will chase and play in the fragrant grass all the way to the market.

The scent of food on the snowy wind. Smoke from a wood fire. Her delicate ears prick at the sound of a dog whining.

"Is it suppertime, Mother? Your daughter is so very hungry…"

It isn't her mother who catches her, but the strong arms of her father, or maybe it's her brother. But the impatient tones are not from a voice she recognizes. Then someone lifts her off the ground and onto the bed of a wagon. When he begins to strip off her wet clothes, her eyes snap open and she realizes it isn't her father or her brother. She struggles weakly, by trying to hang on to the fabric of her dress.

"You bring out those claws Khajiit and we're gonna have a problem. I mean you no harm. Now, lay still. You're half dead. Rest and get yourself warm for a minute or two and then I'll give you some broth."

Then, before she could protest again, he finishes stripping off her wet clothes, and wrapped her tightly in wolf skins.

"Elahana is very hungry," she said faintly, her head falling back on the rough wooden boards of the wagon. It was the man from the road! Then he helped her sit up and dropped another skin over her shoulders.

"I'm sure you are. But sure as I give you some real food your stomach will toss it right back up. Here," he said gently holding her head so she could focus on drinking the water.

It was so good and she gulped greedily. Then, "Oh gods!" She squeaked and lunged for the side of the wagon.

He held her head while she vomited over the side.

"This one is sorry... So sorry."

"No worries. It happens. Here try a small sip of the broth."

It stayed down and she flexed her whiskers at him appreciatively.

"Don't know if that was an expression of thanks or a sneer. Keep those claws to yourself."

What did he think she was, some common Skooma junkie fighting for her next fix? She'd show him. She was a lady. So she smoothed her expression and relaxed her ears.

"Just one more sip?" She asked politely without a hint of aggression or, she hoped, fear.

He helped her tip the horn cup to her mouth, but he stopped her from taking more than a sip. "Now, now, little cat. Don't want you throwing up again. How 'bout you lay down and get some sleep? My dog will keep your backside warm."

"A dog? Filthy animal. Keep it away from me."

"You're not allowed inside the gates of any city in Skyrim, but you're too good for my Ralph?" He rubbed his chin and gazed out into the snowy night and shrugged, "I could toss you back out on the road."

"No… please don't. Elahana is so sleepy. You are so kind."

At the man's whistle the giant hound obediently jumped onto the wagon. He whined in protest before rolling over on his side and placing himself against the shivering Khajiit. Tossing another skin over them both the man shook his head and turned to care for his horse.

The night turned colder as the clouds cleared and the stars shimmered in the winter sky. His worn leather tent afforded him little shelter as the wind rolled down off the mountains and found its way through every hole. It wasn't long before he was shivering too.

He gazed longingly at the wagon. Well, if his damn dog and a Khajiit could be warm, then By The Nine, so could he. Trying not to startle her, the man climbed on the wagon and stretched out next to his dog.

The next morning he opened his eyes to the glint of the morning sun shining across the snow and a bright blue sky. He shaded his eyes only to discover, not his dog sleeping next to him, but the young Khajiit. She was lying close to him with her head on his shoulder and one arm stretched across his chest. His arms were around her, with one hand on her back and the other caught in her soft fur. Her breath was slow and regular. Against his side he could feel the vibration of her purring. Satisfied she's warm enough and recovered from her ordeal he tries to slip away from her.

His movement woke her and he found a pair of startled green eyes gaze back at him.

"W-Who are you?" She asked, scrabbling back away from him. While he waited for her to calm down, he noticed a few things about her that he hadn't noticed last night. One, she was beautiful with black-tipped golden fur and green eyes. Her delicately pointed ears were tufted with a black fur. Even worn out, dirty and starving, she was a beauty.

"This one wants to know who you are? Where is the caravan? Why are you traveling alone?"

"Because, I'm not a merchant. Is Elahana your name?"

"How did you know? How did I get here?"

"You told me your name, last night. You wandered into my camp, soaking wet and half dead. In fact, it was a close call as to whether you would starve or freeze to death."

"This one remembers. Elahana overheard you speaking to another man on the road. You said, you would travel until the sun went down. She decided to follow you."

"I guess you were out of options," he said seriously, noting her soft hands and bewildered expression. This was not a Khajiit accustomed to being away from the comforts of home. It's a wonder she survived as long as she had.

"Thank you for taking me in."

She looked him full in the face then and he noticed her human mouth and expressive green eyes. Not cat's eyes exactly.

"Please don't stare at me. I hate it."

"You're beautiful, Elahana."

"No," and she gestured impatiently with her hands, waving away his comment. This one is _not_ beautiful. Not in your world and not in hers."

The man stared up the road. "Is anyone chasing you?" If there was, he did not intend to get caught with her in his camp.

"No...or, I don't know. But Elahana has been on the road for four days now. A bandit stole her horse and belongings. So if anyone saw the horse, they probably followed it. If they find the bandit, he won't remember where he found me or which direction I took."

"You seem to have it all figured out," he commented, enjoying the strange lilting tones of her accent and manner of speech. Most of the Khajiits he'd met had a gravelly tone, but hers is melodic and soft.

"No, she does not have it all it all figured out. But there's no reason to be angry with her. Elahana did thank you for saving her life."

He didn't respond, but slid off the wagon, went to the campfire and pulled a Dutch oven from under the banked coals. She watched in amazement as he removed a steaming hot loaf of bread and the remainder of last night's stew.

Just as efficiently he pulled the stopper from two bottles of ale. While he collected their breakfast she took stock of him. For a man he appeared strong and capable of taking care of himself. Muscles bulged under his leather jerkin and simple linen shirt. His leather pants fit like a second skin to his well formed legs. She wondered if he were an Imperial. Tall and dark, he didn't look like a Nord.

Handing her a bowl and a bottle of ale, he jumped back up beside her.

"Name's Andring."

She eyed him from under her long lashes. "That's a Nord name. You don't look like a Nord."

"Now the little cat is insulting me. I'm as true a Nord as you are a Khajiit. Now eat your breakfast, I need to get moving."

After delicately swabbing the last of the stew with a heel of bread, and thinking she was glad her mother hadn't seen her do such a rude thing, she said, "Well, since I'm not, strictly speaking, Khajiit. Does that make you a liar?"

"Aren't you the high and mighty one. Calling the one who saved your life a liar."

"This one only meant…"

"I know what you meant. I've heard all about you Khajiits and your fancy desert land. I don't agree with the Jarl outlawing your kind from the city, but you're changing my mind, little cat."

"She is not a little cat. And I only meant that you were the same as me, not really at home anywhere."

"I'm at home right here in Skyrim."

"Then why are you sneaking around with that other man? Why are you out here in the middle of winter when you could be holed up with some Whiterun doxy at the Bannered Mare?"

"Well, for someone who claims to be new in town you seem to know a lot about Whiterun. So why are you on the run?"

"None of your business!" She'd had quite enough of his rude manners and talk. "Thank you for the shelter and the food. Elahana will be on her way."

"I don't think so, little cat."

"Don't call me that again and you can't stop me!"

He folded his arms over his broad chest and smirked. "Go ahead."

She flung the furs aside and jumped off the end of the wagon. "Oh!" Wrapping her arms around her chest, she tried to hide her nudity. She hadn't realized. How could she? He'd been making her so angry.

"Get me a robe!"

Continuing to laugh at her predicament, he dug through one of the trunks until he found a robe. It was a light green robe of soft wool, trimmed in gold embroidery as fine as any from her father's craftsmen. Before he draped the robe over her he dropped a linen gown over her head. He watched it fall to her feet. He didn't need to stare at her to know she was a beauty, with her soft white skin and firm young muscles. She was wrong, any man would find her beautiful.

When his hands slowed down over her shoulders and he allowed a fingertip to glide across her delicate ear, she snatched the robe away and closed it over herself.

"Get your hands off Elahana!"

"As you wish, my lady. I'm going to wash up these dishes. That'll give you some privacy. There's boots and gloves in the bag there. I'll be back in a few minutes. Please don't steal my wagon… oh, I shouldn't worry. A fine lady such as yourself can't possibly know how to drive a wagon."

"Of course I can drive a wagon! You're so insulting!" She stomped off to the small creek to freshen up. After washing the mud and ice from herself, she noticed the small salmon swimming idly in the shallow water. Quick as any cat, her right hand shot out and snared a fat one. Just as quickly, two more joined the first one on the bank. She secured her robe and pulled on the boots before she strung the fish together and headed back to the wagon.

Andring paused from hitching the horse to watch her walking toward him. Her pale blond hair hung in waves down her back. The robe clung to her womanly curves and he wondered about her age. He'd never seen a Khajiit exactly like her. Well, he reminded himself, as he went back to securing the horse to the wagon, she obviously didn't want to talk about it. He'd find out eventually and for a while, at least until they made Markarth, he'd let her travel with him.

He finally noticed what she carried in her hands.

"Where did you get the fish?"

"I stole them from the Sabre Cat back there by the stream," she shot back and kept walking.

Maybe he should give her a few coins and send her on her way. Her smart mouth and imperious manner was about to get her in trouble. Damn her. The more he thought about her behavior the angrier he got. And he would tell her so. He jumped off the wagon he grabbed her by the arms.

"Look, little cat. You've got a hell of a notion about how to say thank you."

"I already thanked you and I caught dinner. Elahana planned to make fish stew for you," she said, glaring at him and yanking her arm from his grasp. The angry movement of her arm accidentally raked her nails across this forearm. Blood quickly welled up between the torn remnants of his linen shirt sleeve.

"SHOR'S Stone! You'll pay for this!" He swung his arm around as if to backhand her.

The fish landed forgotten on the ground. She dropped instinctively into battle stance and flexed her hands. What the man saw was no longer simple nails, but claws extended from powerful looking paws. The claws on her feet split the thin leather of her lady's boots. Her face widened into a snarl and her breath hissed a cloud of vapor around her head.

"Think what you like about me Nord, but do not make the mistake of thinking this one cannot defend herself."

"Before you spill my guts, can I ask one question?"


	2. But Wilt Thou Woo this Wild Cat? 2

TITLE: "But Wilt Thou Woo This Wild Cat?"

CHAPTER: 2

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"Though she be but little, she is fierce!"

― William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

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"Lower your arm, Nord," the words she hissed were not an invitation.

He wisely did as she ordered and lowered his arms with his hands out to his side. He tried a smile and some of his normally well-received wit. "I warned you about those claws... I'm sorry. I would never hurt you. So tell me how you came to be blond as a Nord and yet look like a Khajiit?"

By the flicker of her green eyes and the crease of a frown line between her eyes, he knew he'd hit a sore spot. Then her ears swiveled back against her head.

"You are correct; you will not hurt me. Is your comment an attempt to intimate? Your snarl lacks a certain bravado and your small round teeth wouldn't frighten a Khajiit kit."

With a glance at her hands, he noticed she showed no sign of pulling in her claws. He tried to keep in mind that she was obviously young, frightened and away from home for the first time. The most dangerous thing to do with a wild animal was to look them in the eye.

"Let's try again, Elahana." Using her name this time, he deliberately he cast his eyes to the ground. "I saw the bruises and split lip. Looks like he hit you pretty hard. Did he chip your tooth as well?"

Nodding to him with sad eyes, beginning to glisten in the morning sun, he watched her fold in on herself. This was his chance and he took it.

"What do you say to a simple business agree..."

The change in his tone brought her head up and she watched his eyes widen. For no reason she could discern he'd stopped talking. Resisting the urge to turn around, she thought it might be just a trick to catch her off guard. Then her sharp ears caught the sound of something moving through the air. Then he dove for her, grabbing her around the waist and dragging her to the ground.

The weight of his body on hers brought her back feet up in defense. He felt the pressure of her claws on his belly.

"Don't fight me cat, or we'll both be dead! Is that amulet still around your neck?"

"How did you know…"

"Cat!"

"Yes, I have it!"

Her hissing response almost made him flinch, because he almost expected to feel those sharp teeth sink into this neck.

"I'm going to move toward the wagon. The horse is not completely harnessed. You stay right here. In just a few moments I'll ride past. Be ready to climb up. One chance, little cat. Ready?"

While the sound of angry voices and running feet crunching branches echoed through the trees. Arrows rained down around them. The weather was on Andring's side for once, because the fresh deep snow slowed their advanced. With any chance of a surprise attack gone, Andring used the conditions to his advantage and began to move.

Then his weight is off her and he's moving low and fast to the horse. Tossing a satchel across his chest, he yanked the horse out of the traces and swung aboard. The horse crow-hopped at the rough treatment, then settled. Its peeling whinny nearly shook the snow off the branches.

Crouching low, Elahana gathered herself. Andring is galloping toward her. Their eyes meet. But the churning horses hooves scared her a little and she hung back. The voices are so close now and there is no way of knowing their intent.

"Now!"

She leapt upwards just as he grabbed her arm. Andring swung her in front of The him.

"Hold on to me!"

She did as she was told and hide her face against his chest.

"Good. Make yourself as small a target as possible. Hang on!"

She didn't dare watch, but she felt the horse leave the ground as Andring jumped the horse across the stone snow barrier at the side of the road. The woods engulfed them as he encouraged the horse into the protective gloom of the deep forest.

They kept that pace until the sun began to set again. She'd even dozed off once and when she woke he soothed her back against his chest. "Back to sleep, little cat."

"Please do not call me that. I'm not a child."

Long leather-clad fingers carded up through her hair and pulled her head back. Blinking to focus her sleep filled eyes, she saw dark storm clouds shrouding him from behind. The effect darkened his eyes and she could not interpret the look on his face.

"Who were those men? Are you angry?" She ventured.

"Far from it. I like the way you fit..." he stopped himself, because he had no right to say such things to her. Instead of sharing those thoughts, he pulled the exhausted horse to a stop. There were hot springs nearby and fresh water for the animals. They'd been running all day. Ralph required no urging, he simply threw himself down in the shallows and lapped at the cold creek water.

Andring slid off first and turned around to assist her down when she simply fell into his arms.

"Sorry! I didn't realize I was so stiff!"

"It's all right. No harm done, he said, tilting her toward himself to strengthen his grip on her lithe body. Trust me?"

"I'm afraid not. You haven't explained the presence of those men. Why are they chasing you?"

"Maybe they were chasing you? At any rate, we have outrun them for the moment." He continued walking and ignoring her question. "What do you think? Time for a good soak?"

A steaming pool beckoned her tired muscles and dirty hair.

"Let this one down please." Once on her feet, she stepped away from him. Turning her back, she artlessly removed the robe and spread it over a nearby rock. Behind her, she heard him whistle low.

"Have I done something…? Oh, I should have waited. My brother and I swim…" She could hear herself stuttering.

"I'm not your brother, little cat."

"Indeed you are not! Go away and leave me some privacy!"

"Aye, that I will," and he strode angrily away. Angry at himself for being caught out in the open like that and angry at her for being the cause of it. A shallow pool beckoned and he shrugged off his filthy clothes and waded in.

"Ralph! Watch!"

Satisfied Ralph was on patrol and would bark a warning at any danger, Andring sank gratefully into the hot water. Gods, he was tired. He felt as if he'd been tired and angry for ever. Certainly since before the winter. Had it been after summer or before when he'd awakened knowing neither his name or his place in the world?

The wagon and horse he'd found on the side of the road. The original owner lay in a pool of his own frozen blood on the side of the road. The poor horse had been nearly dead from dehydration and hunger. The bandits had wrecked the back of the wagon in their haste to grab all the loot they could carry. The valuable horse was left to fend for itself. But it couldn't move the broken wagon. So there it stood, shivering in the cold where he found it. It was a wonder that wolves hadn't taken him down. Once he'd gotten the horse loose, he found a large dog suddenly at his side. The dog was also cold and shivering with several bite marks on his back. The dog must be the reason the horse had survived this long.

Someone must have been looking out for him that day, because he'd found a satchel of dried fruit and a brace of rabbits hidden under the driver's seat. And, gods be praised, one dusty old bottle of Nord Ale. The dog had howled appreciatively when he lifted the seat and retrieved the rabbits. It was then he noticed the scratch marks on the wood. The dog had been trying to get to the rabbits too.

An hour later, with the horse watered and staked out on a patch of tender grass, the dog and he shared the warmth of a fire and the meat off the bones of two lean winter rabbits. He didn't have answers, but it was good not to be alone anymore.

In the morning, he fixed wagon and with the dog at his side they began a journey. Since that day, the trio had travelled the roads of Skyrim. He took work where he could find it, but always left town before anyone questioned him too closely. The guards always gave him a look over. With his dark hair and eyes, no one took him for a Nord and he quickly discovered, Nords were a suspicious bunch.

The mines were always looking for workers. Sometimes a townsperson or a guard would give him some short term work. Gradually, he'd collected a nice bow and quiver. By picking up stray arrows or the occasional discarded or unguarded - he was no thief - bit of weapon or armor which he could sell in town. All of which meant he could keep the three of them from starving. He kept his head down, remained open and friendly to everyone he met and made up the name Andring Copper-Winter for himself. Until the day, a Khajiit stumbled into his camp he'd been content.

Fingers on his injured forearm roused him from his musings. Why hadn't Ralph barked? Damn useless mutt! Without opening his eyes, he flipped the intruder over and into the water with him. With its arms firmly pinned behind its back, he forced it against the opposite bank. Instead of the hard muscles of a man, his naked body connected with a the soft clinging fabric of wet linen over supple curves. His body responded before he even realized what he'd done.

"Andring!" she gasped. "... can't breath. It's me."

"What are you about, Cat! I could have killed without thinking twice about it." Then he flipped her around, but when he released his grip on her she slid under the water. The wet linen scraping across his aroused body only fueled his lonely state. After nearly throwing her into the shallow end of the small pool, he turned his back on her. Dug his fingers into the dirt shoreline and tried to pull himself together.

The Khajiit stood slowly and backed away. She'd only tried to help, even apologize. No matter what she did, he was angry.

"I-I'm sorry. You were asleep. The scratches on your arm needed tending. Elahana is sorry. Are you injured further? Feverish? I was afraid we'd left it too long."

"For the love of… just get away from me! And, dress yourself!"

And so she did as she was told. Before she walked back to their small fire she left the small bit of healing salve she'd managed to collect beside his hand.

After she pulled the robe on, she sat down by the fire to comb out her long hair. It felt good to be clean, but Andring's anger confused her. Her instincts told her not to trust him and she always listened to her instincts. It was afterall, the first lesson every kit learned.

Ralph raised his head from Elahana's lap when his master approached. Dressed, with his long hair in wet tangles to his shoulders, he just stared into the fire. She stood slowly, unsure and a little frightened.

It was a long time before he spoke to her. "I'm offering to keep you with me while we travel. You'll provide cover for me and we can protect each other."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"Because, little... Elahana, we obviously both have secrets to keep. I promise to protect you and your secret. Will you make the same promise?"

Without actually answering his question, she replied, "I'll dress your wounds if you clean the fish."

Taking a cautious step toward her, he said quietly, "I'll clean the fish, if you promise to make that fish stew you mentioned."

"I'll need some wild onions and mushrooms, but I don't know what you call them here in Skyrim. And some garlic."

They stood within a foot of each other now. Trying to look down into her face to interpret her expression, she suddenly turned her green eyes on him. He drew a sharp breath. A man could get lost in those eyes. A man could begin to feel he might take on the responsibility to protect green eyes filled so deep with sadness.

"I saw you shake hands - is that what you call it - with that man. Should we shake on our business agreement?"

"If you wish it," and he held out his right hand and she carefully laid her fingers down on his palm. It was enough for now. And there in the road, a day's journey from Whiterun, the Khajiit and the Nord made an uneasy peace. Before he sat down with her by the fire, he did something he never imagined himself doing. He made a promise to himself. He promised to protect her and he was surprised when he realized he meant to keep it.

With her free hand she offered him the only other personal item she had left to her. Finally, their eyes met as he accepted the comb from her.


	3. But Wilt Thou Woo This Wild Cat? 3

TITLE: "But Wilt Thou Woo This Wild Cat?"

CHAPTER: 3

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"And yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays."

― William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

* * *

She tucked her feet under her and watched him comb out his hair. It annoyed him, she could tell. Although she knew nothing about cutting hair. She did know a thing or two about keeping it out of her face. She handed him a leather strip. "Here. Pull your hair back and tie it with this."

He did it and smiled at her when he finished. "Now why didn't I think of that before. Thank you."

"You don't know who those men are do you?" She asked quietly after he'd finished and handed her back the comb.

He gazed at her over the low fire. If they were ever going to learn to count on each other, it was time for some truth. He shook his head and tossed a stick into the fire, "No, little cat. I don't know."

"If you're a wanted man, the town guards would recognize you. They do not hesitate a moment to hold my kind back under any suspicion they care to name."

"I've seen it. The only people treated worse than the Khajiit are the dark elves."

She nodded sadly, "Elahana cannot disagree with that. Civil war, famine in the north and in my country, Imperial interference and everywhere there is tension among the races."

"Don't forget about the vampires." Then he realized what she said, "So you're a Stormcloak then?"

"I don't know enough about Skyrim politics to say, but I've heard many in Skyrim wish the Imperial yoke removed from the necks of the Nords."

"Well, said. We should get some sleep. May I join you under that overhang... Ralph and I?"

She blushed and he saw it. "Perhaps not. Elahana did not understand at first. Could not figure out why she made you angry."

"I'm sorry. Elahana have you ever been lonely?" he'd moved close to her and raised her face to his with a finger.

"Yes, I know what it means to be lonely. This one knows very well and she is sorry you must feel this way too. If I were older. I might know what to do. This one enjoys the feeling of Andring's arms around her. But she doesn't want to make him angry again."

Her words were gentle and kind and it calmed him. The hot blood ebbed and cooled in his body. She was an innocent and she needed his protection. So he put his back against the fire-warmed rock face and pulled her between his legs.

"Lay back, little cat. Sleep now."

She didn't fight him and leaned back against him with her arms around his waist. Her head lay just below his chin. By the Nine, she felt good in his arms. Although he ached with need, to take her would both frighten her and turn their trust to hatred. He didn't think he could take that look on her face. So Andring stilled himself, wrapped his arms around her and fell asleep with his nose in her hair.

"When Elahana is older she will know what to do," she whispered against his shoulder and drifted off.

Andring chuckled, "Didn't think you really understood what you meant by a doxy," and he added quietly, "I'm glad." before he smoothed her hair back from her cheek and tightened his grip on her. Tomorrow would soon enough to find answers.

The tired horse edged closer to the people and dropped his head low. He blew softly through his nose and let his ears go slack. Ralph turned around several times before he could find a spot where he could be in contact with both people before finally laying down. And in this ring of security and haven they slept peacefully through the long Skyrim night.

Elahana woke slowly to the smell of meat sizzling on fire. Ralph whimpered and his tail thumped against her foot. With her head on Andring's satchel she lay curled up on the grass. But the grass was wet with dew as the sun melted the frost. She shivered and sat up.

Andring squatted by the fire with just his pants on. His well muscled torso bare to her gaze and she blushed when she realized she was staring.

"Do you like what you see, little cat?" He teased.

Her blush grew hot and spread into her face. "The food smells good."

He grinned at her, enjoying for the moment and seeing her flustered. "Ralph and I came upon a fresh kill. Two wolves were so busy fighting over the deer carcass they forgot about this nice haunch. So Ralph and I borrowed it. Didn't we Ralph?"

"I wish we could go back and retrieve your cooking equipment."

"Until I figure things out, it's just not safe to go back. I miss that Dutch oven too. But we'll make due."

He finished cooking while she braided her hair. Before he joined her under the rock ledge he pulled on his shirt and jerkin. After gallantly offering her the choicest portion he looked at her seriously.

"What about you?"

"Me?"

"Have you figured things out?"

Her green eyes flashed at him.

"That pretty blush of yours is getting to be a regular thing, little cat."

Quickly getting to her feet, she headed toward the stream to wash her face and hands. She tried her best to ignore him, but his presence in the short time they'd known each other, come to mean something to her. He'd promised to keep her safe and he had. He'd promised to let her travel with him. And he acknowledged her secret and up until now hadn't pressed her about it.

She finished washing and straightened her robe and hair. When she turned around he was right behind her. So deep in thought, she walked right into him.

Andring caught her face in his hands and ran his thumb over her lower part of her mouth. "I'm not the first person to find a Khajiit desirable, am I?"

One very large tear rolled over his thumb.

"Please don't."

He'd watched her for two days. There might be more to her secret than what he could see with his own eyes. But what he could see and what he must finally acknowledge hit him like a blow from a cave bear's paw.

Andring felt his heart expand toward her, encompassing her with his regard and respect. Had they kept it from her all her life? Kept the secret until the child began to grow up. Long blond hair, a woman's body, eyes that were not quite Khajiit, fur so fine and thin her pale Nord skin showed through. A body changing out of her control and betraying her until no one could deny the truth. Had they kept her hidden or banished her?

"I'm sorry, Elahana."

Sorry, because no one would want her. He knew enough to know, she could never be a mother. She'd never get her first kiss or be sought after by a mate. All because the prejudices of this land dictated the races stay separate. In Markarth the dark elves lived in filthy slums, the Khajiit lived hand to mouth outside the city walls. Unwelcome everywhere and defended by no one.

"I don't need your pity."

"I give none. But, may I give you this?"

"What?" When she raised her head to look up at him. She watched his face lower over hers. His dark eyes, were serious and deep with intensity. She almost took a step back.

Then his lips touched her mouth and he closed her eyes with gentle fingers. Her whiskers twitched in response and tickled his palm. But he was careful of her whiskers and her ears and instead of touching her head at all, he plunged his fingers into her platinum blonde mane.

The scent and taste of him overwhelmed her delicate senses. She made a little mewling sound and swayed against him. This thing he was doing to her lite a fire in her. When he began to whisper in her ear, she leaned her head back into his hands.

"You are so beautiful in the morning sun, little cat. Your hair glitters like ice, yet soft and warm like silk."

He opened his mouth wider and slanted his lips across her muzzle and drank her in. She was inhaling his scent through her small nose as he kissed her. Her presence and her acceptance of him filled an aching hole in his heart. She was brave and scared all at the same time. She should be home with her family. He was her home now and she was his. But there would be much for him to apologize for in a few minutes.

"Oh, Ela..."

Just as lost in the moment as Andring, Elahana tried to copy his movement by opening her own mouth. When he followed her lead and deepened the kiss his tongue flicked across her chipped canine and they tasted his blood. The growl that emerged from her belly vibrated along his flesh. Her nails involuntarily flexed into his back muscles. It was painful and surprising, but he didn't cry out. Only only pulled her closer and buried his face in her sweet scented neck.

Then her hands began to flex and open. In another moment she would capture him against her, in preparation for what, she did not know. Something was driving her now. When her lips pulled back in a sneer and the growl erupted from her throat, she felt wild and out of control. She wanted something... ached to hunt for it and control the process.

The man was in danger. This man who had shown her nothing but kindness was in danger. And because she knows this moment is not for her, just as the man is not for her. Because she is young enough to still be confused by her passion, she held her feral instincts in check long enough to push him away.

They fell to their knees several feet from each other. Blood soaked through his shirt darkening the leather of his jerkin. His breathing is harsh and out of control.

Elahana fell to the ground and wept.

It took him a long time to calm down enough to look up at her. He'd loved women before, of course he must have. But nothing compared to the fire of her embrace. Gods forgive him, he wanted the pain. He wanted to be her's and belong to her. To be her mate for life. For he knew that is what Khajiits did. Then, with a cry of despair, he knew compared to even her inexperienced passion he could never be with her, never provide for her, never be what a male Khajiit… He pounded his fist into the permafrost, cutting his hand on the sharp ice.

"Elahana… forgive…" He looked up, to find what he hoped was forgiveness, but she is gone.


	4. But Wilt Thou Woo This Wild Cat? 4

TITLE: "But Wilt Thou Woo This Wild Cat?"

CHAPTER: 4 …make a heaven out of hell

AN: Elahana's POV

* * *

_I'll follow thee and make a heaven out of hell,_

_To die by your hand which I love so well._

― William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

* * *

With my heart in my throat, I ran. Scrambling across the forest, I ran away from the man, the embrace, and the voice I could still hear calling, as it echoed through the golden birch forest.

"Elahana!"

Hidden for a moment within in a stand of aspen trees I risked a look back. My breath is loud with short, frantic breaths. His plaintive call sends a frisson of something I cannot identify through me and sets me quivering. But I must keep going and shook my head to clear the memories of his violent embrace.

It didn't work. Had my response been instinctive or the reaction of a child? That throbbing need is still in my veins and pushes me away from the man called Andring. Away from the kind man, who saved had saved my life and whose only crime was to press his mouth against mine.

The sound of horse's hooves churning through the underbrush made me realize he was gaining on me. So quickening my pace, I clambered up a sheer rock face. He could not track me over the rocks. He must not catch me, because I cannot face him again.

What he had done to me? By pressing his lips against mine, he stirred something in my body that I didn't understand. And I must understand before it happened again, because I had almost hurt him. My body recognized it though. But I did not understand the hot blood commanding I take mastery over him and in some manner strange to me, I must submit to him.

The sound of him calling my name again urged me into action. With claws extended I loped over the broken countryside. The rising sun darkening my path, so that I chased my shadow. The edge of a cliff brought me up short. So frantic in my attempt to escape my fears, I nearly slid over the edge. Once I stopped, I could see that by jumping from one small ledge to the next I could make my way down the steep cliff face.

At the bottom lay a narrow ravine. Above me, a cataract plunged straight down to the valley floor. At my feet lay a pool of churning water fed by the falling water. By jumping from the rock ledge into the water, I left no track for him to follow. He would give up the chase soon. He must. I carefully began to descend to the next level. The lower cataract rumbled in my ears and sprayed me with mountain run-off as I climbed down beside it to the valley floor below.

"Little cat!"

His voice came to me so clearly; I thought he must have been standing directly above me. It startled me so badly I almost lost my footing. The icy water splashes me and I am tiring quickly, as the adrenaline surge that helped me make the decision to leave him begins to subside. In its wake, I feel only the weight of exhaustion and a strange sorrow over the decision to leave him creeping up on me. It pulls at me and I almost keen with loss at the loneliness of the empty land around me.

Please stop following me, Andring. Please, her mind begged. Muddy with fatigue her thoughts turn back on themselves. The swirl of emotions made her question her motives and taunted her for leaving the safety of Andring and his animals. I know that I have made the right decision. I am stronger now and no longer afraid of the sound of every snapping twig or footstep.

Because I know my Father's men will not stop looking for me I keep moving. Without the horse and dog, I can move faster through the countryside. I can hide in places they cannot. Andring could move about more safely without her. And hopefully, soon, the pain in my heart would heal.

One final leap puts me at the bottom of the lowest cataract. The green valley, so different from the snowy hills above is sweet with the scent of wildflowers. The warm sun and soft grass calls to my tired limbs.

At the bottom of the waterfall I'd found in a satchel laying against a tree. The people of Skyrim certainly left their things lying around for anyone to take. A treasure for a runaway Khajiit like me. To my delight, the satchel contained four apples, enough dried beef to last a week or more, two rabbit haunches and a venison chop. I wonder what happened to its owner as I tear into a rabbit haunch.

Later, after taking a drink from the snow-fed creek I lay down with a row of tundra cotton to shield me, beneath a small stand of granite rocks. My tired body gave a shuddering sigh and crystal tears fell unheeded from my eyes. I squeezed shut to stop the tears, but I could no more do that then block out the regret.

I slept the afternoon away. In Skyrim the forests and tundra teem with life. Evening on the valley floor brings out the carnivores. With such an abundance of life, except for the oldest or youngest, no animal had to go hungry. My keen senses woke me to the sour smell of a bear and the sound of her movements instinctively brought out my claws.

So quick were my movements, do not think it was from courage that I moved, the cave bear was quite surprised when the dinner she picked out for herself and her cubs began to fight back. The sow reared up in surprise and swiped at the blood dripping from her sensitive nose.

She backed away and prepared to charge where I crouched against some rocks. No match for her size and weight, I could not survive the impact of her charge. So before she could launch herself at me, I sprang to the top of the rock.

Confidant of her attack, yet frustrated and enraged and unable to stop her forward motion, she plowed straight into the rock face. Stunned for the moment, the bear stood shaking its massive head.

"Move, Khajiit! Move while she's confused."

Just a few yards away, a woman astride a dapple-gray stallion is shouting at me. Striking with her long red braid and glowing weapons. Her powerful presence and authoritative voice called again. This time I heard her words clearly and began to move toward her before she could finish the sentence.

"Move! How many times do I have to say it?"

When I came within reach of the woman. The Nord turned her horse and called angrily.

"Follow me! We need to get away from that sow. I don't want to kill her. She's got cubs."

She put her well muscled horse to the steep side of a rocky hill. We climbed and climbed from ledge to ledge. When the Nord finally stopped we were on a rise that afforded us the safety of a good vantage point to watch for danger.

I straightened, trying to catch my breath and watched the young woman dismount. "This one thanks you for the assistance. I am new in this land and have much to learn."

"You'd better learn it quick, Khajiit. Not knowing can get you killed."

The Nord woman's words came out sharp and quick. The woman is angry. Angry with Elahana?

"Elahana does not understand your anger," I inquired politely with my ears and whiskers still.

"I'm not angry at all," the Nord said with a loud exhalation and dropped to a sitting position on the ground. After rummaging in her pack, she came up with a baked potato. After splitting it open, she offered half to me.

"Come on, sit down. I'm not angry or dangerous. Just tired and frustrated."

The Nord watched me carefully as I joined her on the ground. She's noticing the robe I wear is filthy, yet made of expensive fabric. Her gloved fingertip traces the intricate embroidery. From under her lashes, she studies my face. I should be accustomed to the stares of strangers by now, but I'm not. I hate it and so I look away.

"You look kind of young to be so far from home. Who are you running from?" Her voice is pitched quiet and gentle, like Andring's. I must not acknowledge how much I miss him and push it away. And kindness comes with its own responsibilities. I cannot take it on. I don't have the strength.

"No one." Quickly focusing on my meal, I must acknowledge the fact that of all the things I've learned out here, lying is now one.

She startled me with her directness and I looked up, ready to flee.

"Really? This is what I see. Except for your feet and teeth, you have no weapons. No disrespect, melee does not always work. You need something for long-range targets. And around here it's almost always wise to soften your target up with a few arrows."

"I do not know how to use a bow and arrow."

She looked at me in disbelief. "I don't mean to scare you, but you're going to get killed out here."

"Would you consider…" I stopped myself and willed my claws back in their sheath. This one seemed trustworthy, yet, so had Andring. I cursed my inexperience. Running away from Elsweyr had been an emotional decision. I must take responsibility for myself and learn survival skills. "... teaching Elahana?"

The woman appeared to consider the idea. "I tell you what; I'm on my way to that village over there to clear a wild animal from someone's house. If you'll help me, I'll give you whatever we find laying around and you can come back to Whiterun with me. I'll share the pay with you. Then you can get yourself kitted out. Do you even know any magic?"

Ashamed of my naivete, I just shook my head, "This one is young"

"Obviously. Now I know you're a runaway. I understand. I ran away from home, too. Can you ride?"

"Yes, Elahana can ride a horse."

"I could put you in a wagon and meet you in Solitude."

I shook my head, "the drivers will not allow a Khajiit on their wagon," Elahana has learned that much, "And if they see that you intend to purchase a horse for a Khajiit they will refuse the sale."

"Talos! This is a strange land. Well, there's no help for it. Up you go."

As we rode along, she let me know we were on our way to Solitude to clear a wild animal from a manor house. She was a member of a group of fighters known as the The Companions. An organization, even I in my ignorance, had heard about. In Cyrodiil they are called The Fighters Guild, here in Skyrim the honored group is known as The Companions.

"And anyone can join?" I prompted. She made it seem like a place of friendship and honor. A place where honor and courage meant more than the look of your face or place of birth.

I will admit to feeling safe and at ease as we rode along. Her horse's stride across the land was sure and long. Even the inquisitive little foxes took a wide circle around us. Her tales of adventuring passed the time. And it occurred to me as we laughed over the behavior of a man named Farkas, someone she called her shield brother, that she was lonely too.

In the warmth of the midday sun I fell asleep, my head against her leather clad shoulder.

We didn't stop to make camp until the moons were high in the sky. Once she'd laid a fire, I gathered water and pulled together a simple meal from the saddle bag I'd found. We ate in companionable silence until we'd eaten our fill. After we secured the food and tossed the scraps into the river, she opened a second bottle of mead for each of us.

"Let's hear it. What's your story?"


	5. But Wilt Thou Woo This Wild Cat? 5

TITLE: But Wilt Thou Woo This Wild Cat?

CHAPTER: 5

AN: Andring's POV

* * *

Swift as a shadow, short as any dream; brief as the lightning in the collied night. —Lysander describes to Hermia how quickly true love can be destroyed. William Shakespeare, _A Midsummer Night's Dream_

* * *

My sturdy Nord horse churned through the snow as we followed Ralph over the rough ground. What manner of man had I been that nearly forced himself on a young girl? The answer gave me no peace and drove me on. I could only curse the inept handling of my desires from a past I cannot remember. And when I found her, what would I say? Any trust built in our short time together probably destroyed in my clumsy attempt at seduction.

She's on the run again, with no weapons, armor, and no one to protect her. Easy pickings for the first bandit who crosses her path. There is no one to blame but myself, so I must find her.

Too busy beating myself up with my feelings, I nearly missed Ralph when he stopped and his head came up. When he began barking excitedly, I hoped for a miracle. He's found her, I thought. My heart soared.

"Little, Cat!"

I finally noticed the cliff, with just a few paces to spare. The horse responded to my hauling back on the reins by coming to a sliding stop at the edge. She screamed, the mare's hooves pawed empty space, while crow-hopping on her back legs to save herself. Then in a split second of decision, I threw myself backwards in the saddle. My intention was to shift my body weight to help the horse save us both from certain death.

Finally, I threw myself out of the saddle and rolled a safe distance away. Then opened my eyes to the sight of my horse falling, not over the cliff, but directly backwards on me.

Rolling hard to the right, I narrowly escaped those thrashing legs and heavy hooves. When the horse righted herself, I pulled myself slowly to my feet. With my hands out to my sides, I spoke soothingly. If she bolted there'd be little chance I could catch her.

"Whoa, mare. Whoa girl."

A horse's first instinct is to run. To her credit, she tried to hear me through the anxiety that told her to escape through flight. Her eyes rolled red and her ears swiveled in fear. With slow steps and still hands, I faced her. She trembled and snorted at my approach.

"Whoa, pretty girl. That's it… there's a good _flicka_."

My fingers grasped the reins. She bounced on her front feet.

"Easy mare. Easy."

She gave a great shake, foam and sweat flying in all directions. A great breath went out of her.

Thankfully, she trusted me enough now to let me lead her away from the edge to some shade and a shallow stream. Gratified to see she relaxed enough to drop her head for a drink. I took a minute to catch my own breath at what had almost just happened.

"That was close, eh Ralph?"

His usual habit was to drop in the shallows, and drink like the lazy dog he was, at the water around him.

"Ralph!" I called to him and then tried a whistle. "Ralph!"

I didn't need to walk over to the edge to know what happened. Didn't need to see him… but what if he survived? He would need me. After tying the horse to a tree, I shimmied down the first stone steps of the cataract. There he was, curled up in a ball, licking his back leg. But he was too far down the cliff for me to climb. One more step and the way back up would be closed to me as well. With all the strength left in me, I pulled myself back up and over the edge. I had to get to Ralph. But, how?

"Ralph! Stay!" I called down to him and he looked up at me. I could hear him whimpering even over the falling water. "Stay, boy!"

With a reluctant glance where I'd just come from and the prospect of leaving the wagon behind I headed down. With the horse in tow, I walked slowly down the side of a cliff. Luckily, there were several level spots and easy switchbacks. The horse picked her way down behind me, all business now and calm as you'd expect a Nord horse to be. After several yards of steady descent, I found a spot where it looked as if I could reach him.

The horse pulled up short behind me and snorted. Soaked to the skin we both shook the icy water off like a couple of dogs. Then, with a long look at her, which I hoped she understood meaning, stay where you are, I took a step toward Ralph.

The heavy, foaming water roared past us as it cascaded to the valley floor. The force of it seemed to pull at me. But I couldn't just leave him there. And I knew I would have just one chance to get to my faithful Ralph. So with my eyes on him and a quick prayer to the Divines, I took a leap of faith.

When I rolled safely to a stop next to him on the narrow ledge, he began to lick my face. Sitting up I began to check him for injuries. A long scrape on his side. His back leg was definitely broken, not at the knee thankfully, but lowers down. Easily fixed.

Now how did I know that?

A spot of green against the gray rocks caught my attention. With one arm around Ralph, I reached for the green fabric. Green wool with a thread of golden embroidery.

_Elahana. No._

I pushed the dark thoughts away. A Khajiit could easily scale these rocks, I reminded myself with as much bravado as I could muster. I refused to allow myself to believe she'd fallen. There were no signs of nail marks on the moss or rocks. I tucked the bit of fabric into my tunic and forced myself to move.

My fingers gathered a tuft of black-gold fur clinging to a sharp rock. Elahana!

After wrapping it in the wool, I tucked it back in my tunic and started up the hill with Ralph in my arms.

Even if I could do no more than see that she was well, I would find her.

With Ralph's leg splinted, we started again. Happy to be sitting in front of me on the horse he surveyed the landscape around us as we made our way back to the wagon. We found the wagon and our small campsite intact. So after creating a bed for him in the back we began the trek down the long steep slope to the valley floor. He whimpered once or twice when the wagon jostled him. Otherwise, it was a quiet and lonely ride.

As night crept across the landscape, the glow of a campfire flickered in the distance. Even the horse's ears perked up and she lengthened her stride. A lonely threesome we were. For all we knew they could be Forsworn. With my weapons within easy reach, I headed for the camp.

"Oy!" I called as we neared the campsite. "It's only a man with a wounded dog. Hands full of nothing but reins. May we approach?"

Ralph barked happily as if to emphasize our geniality.

Movement in the camp, then a striking woman rose slowly to her feet. I call her striking, because even in the gray gloom of twilight I could see her obvious beauty. High cheekbones and a shock of red-gold hair. She held an enchanted bow in her hands, lowered, but at the ready. Her highly carved armor a sign of her wealth. With the armor, the weapons and the well-bred horse she's no weary traveler like myself. Any bandit would attack her at his own peril.

"You may approach. If you are a thief, know this is your last sunset."

"I know it, my lady. You honor me with your hospitality. The name is Andring Copper-Winter. Seeking only a welcome moment by a fire and a bit of company to enjoy my dinner."

When she nodded, I directed the wagon around so it would block the worst of the ever-present wind blowing across the tundra. The fire beckoned. She hadn't put her bow away. I made sure my movements were slow.

The moon came out sending long tendrils of white light across the When and where had I learned such loneliness? What events imparted this habit of seeking others out? She appeared to be fine out here alone. Why wasn't I just as content? I longed for something, which I could not name.

Watching her in the moonlight, her bearing strong and fearless, I suddenly felt as though I had something to learn from her.

For a long moment, we regarded each other over the fire.

"Do you know me? Am I familiar to you?" I wondered why she stared at me so intently.

She broke eye contact first and shifted her shoulders as if to shrug something away.

"Come, she gestured, sit by the fire. I have a rabbit roasted and for once a large one."

I laughed and replied, "The wolves always get the fat ones first." Then retrieved Ralph from the back of the wagon. Then I added a heel of bread and two apples to add to our meal.

She unwrapped Ralph from his blanket. "He's injured?"

"He fell from a cliff a few hours ago. I was able to retrieve him, barely. I splinted the injury."

"You know how to treat animals?"

"It seems so, but I have no memory of how or where I learned."

"May I add my own skills to quicken his healing?"

"I will trust you, my lady. Please understand he is my only companion."

She turned saddened eyes on me, while her hands took on a golden glow. Spreading her long-fingered hands over him, Ralph yelped as the first light touched him. Then she spread both her hands over his body to make him stay still for a moment longer.

"He'll stay if I tell him too. I have nothing of value to give to you in thanks, except my loyalty and gratitude.

She smiled and took my arm, "Let's enjoy our meal, Andring. Shall we?"

* * *

_Flicka_: Is Swedish for girl


End file.
